Not so bad living near a jail…

The other day I mentioned to someone that I live near a jail.  And they said, “Oh! Don’t you worry about criminals escaping?”

Nope, not really.  It’s a minimum security jail.  They break out to have lunch at Taco Bell, then go back.  From what I know, it’s mostly blue collar criminal types in there.  Not the really dangerous white collar types.  No priests, I mean.

I think the Girl Scouts actually do a pretty good cookie business there every year.  And there’s nothing like buying your annual Christmas tree from a convict.

And frankly, if there’s gay sex happening in there, it’s because they wanted it.  I don’t think anyone is in there long enough to be forced into it.

The place is called Elmwood.  That’s a wussy name for a jail.  The name of jail should strike fear into the heart of a criminal.  Attica, Riker’s Island, Alcatraz, Devil’s Island.  Ok, maybe not Sing Sing.  That sounds like a Broadway Musical with lots of stripy costumes.

Elmwood doesn’t even sound like a jail.  It sounds like a retirement home.  “Let’s just look at the brochures Mom… See?  It’s got a lot of nice trees and nice men in orange jumpsuits to take care of you.  Plus you can pump some iron in the gym after shuffleboard!”

Phil Johnson <– Get your free download of the week!

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